It was over at last.  The closing line of the Epilogue had been spoken by Rosalind, and she had taken five curtain calls and retired with her arms full of flowers.  The principal actors in the play had been well remembered by friends, and the dressing rooms looked like a florist’s shop.

“I’m so sorry.  I’d like to begin all over again,” said Nora, as she rubbed her face with cold cream to take off her make-up.

“There’s an end to all things,” said Jessica practically, “and really I’m glad to get back into everyday clothes.”

“Hurry up, slowpokes,” said Grace Harlowe, popping her head in the door.  “Tom Gray is here.  He and David are waiting outside with their cars.  We are all going up to Nesbit’s for a jollification given in honor of Rosalind, who is at present dressed in everyday clothes and shaking hands with the great Southard.  He and Miss Tebbs are going, too, and so is Mrs. Gray.”

“Come in, Grace, and tell us where you found Anne’s costumes,” said Nora, giving her cheeks a final rub.  “We’re devoured with curiosity.”

“‘Thereby hangs a tale,’” replied Grace, “but I refuse to be interviewed to-night.  I’ll see you outside.  If you’re not there in three minutes, I’ll put Hippy on your trail.”

Closing the door, Grace walked slowly toward the entrance.  The majority of the girls had gone.  Anne still stood talking with Mr. Southard and Miss Tebbs.

“Grace, come here and speak to Mr. Southard,” called Miss Tebbs.  “Has Nora gone?  Mr. Southard wishes to congratulate her and you, too.”

“She’ll be out in a couple of minutes,” said Grace, as she advanced to greet the great actor.  “But I am not in line for congratulations, as I was not in the play.”

“I am very sorry that you could not play Orlando to-night.  I remember your work at the try-out,” said Mr. Southard in his deep, musical voice.  “Miss Tebbs has told me of the sacrifice you made.  You deserve double congratulations for the part you played behind the scenes.”

“It was nothing,” murmured Grace, her color rising.  “If you are ready, suppose we go.  Mrs. Gray wishes you and Mr. Southard to go in her carriage, Miss Tebbs.  The rest of us will go in the two automobiles.”

As they moved toward the door, Grace left them.  Going back to the dressing room, she rapped sharply on the door.  “Last call!  Look out for Hippy!” she cried, then hurried to catch up with the others.  But before she reached them she was confronted by Eleanor.

“I’ve been waiting to see you ever since the play was over,” said Eleanor sullenly.

Grace looked at her in silence.  “Well?” she said coldly.

“What are you going to do about to-night—­and everything?” asked Eleanor.  “Are you going to tell Miss Thompson?”

“So far I have told nothing, Eleanor,” said Grace sternly.  “You deserve no clemency at my hands, however, for you have repeatedly accused myself and my friends of carrying tales.  Something we are above doing.  You have refused our friendship and have been the means of estranging Miss Thompson and myself.